Family
by Kermit's Soft Kitty
Summary: Thor refuses to let Tony succumb to his demons like Loki did. The team are no longer a team after this incident. They're a family.


Family

* * *

He's asleep when they get back home, crashed on the sofa with a glass bottle in the hand that is draped over the side of the cushions. His body is curled up like a cat seeking the warmth of a radiator, his spare hand protectively wound around the arc reactor.

Initially, they are quite angry that he has drunk himself into a stupor as they had explicitly told him that he should quit the alcohol. But on closer inspection it becomes apparent that it's just Shloer. It brings small smiles to their faces and JARVIS then explains that Shloer manages to bring his sugar levels down.

Somehow.

As they sit down around him to relax for a while before going to bed – they had all been out on a mission before they went to dinner and they deserved the rest – Tony twitches and unconsciously moves his feet further up to his torso, the bottle clattering to the floor as his arm comes up to tuck under his chest.

When queried JARVIS says that Tony hasn't slept properly for over three weeks: he's been hurried about with the superhero problems, his own company to run and upgrades to _everyone's_ weapons – this included Thor's battle armour which was currently being reinforced with Adamantium.

There's a point when he stirs, disturbed by the shifting of Thor's legs right next to his head and they watch him cautiously. Dark eyes open, reflecting the dim lightning and within they can see the exhaustion, the weariness and the defeat. He slips back underneath again before they can release their breaths, fingers curling around the reactor embedded in his chest. All is silent for a while bar Tony's gentle, easy breathing and the occasional cough from Clint who had been going hoarse from all of his yelling in the battle after his comm line broke.

They then discover that Tony talks in his sleep and that it's _not_ all of the innocent, absent dreamy crap that most people would do.

He's _terrified_.

It's horrible to hear and it brings forth many realities that _no-one_ knew about Tony, revealing just how deeply his capture in Afghanistan had really cut. For Steve, especially having been a soldier in World War Two for a brief period, it was sickening to know that his teammate suffered so heavily from post traumatic stress.

He feels like its Bucky, writhing and shivering and muttering whispered plea's to take _his_ life as opposed to his friends.

Thor intervenes when it starts to get violent and scoops Tony up against his chest, ignoring his desperate struggles to escape and rocking him back and forth, murmuring words of comfort and peace. He whispers to them all that Loki used to suffer just as badly and he was always there for his brother. And this new brother of his would not be left to suffer the same fate as Loki own had with his personal demons.

Tony's eyes snap open, breathing escalated and heavy. Liquid runs down his cheeks and temples, tears and sweat respectively, mingling into a heavy, salty liquid. He blinks wide, terrified brown eyes with dilated pupils for a while before turning his face into Thor's chest.

By the twitching of his shoulder blades they can tell he's crying, that he's tired of _everything_. Thor brushes Tony's sweaty hair back from his face, continuing his ministrations before gently standing up and asking directions to the billionaires room.

The Avengers follow their two comrades, intent on making sure that Tony has fully settled before he takes his leave to his own bed. It would be dishonorable of Prince Thor Odinson to leave a brother in everything but blood in his desperate time of need.

Tony Stark very rarely asked for anything and Thor _knew_ that this was a comfort that he _needed_ on a primal, instinctive level. But Thor also knew it was such a instinct that Tony tried to ignore and tried to hide because it wasn't _him_ and it wasn't manly to cry or manly to hug someone.

Thor settled down on the respectively small bed, refusing to relinquish his hold upon Tony. It seemed that the sobbing had subsided but he still leant into Thor's touch, as if trying to ground and solidify himself to the real world. He looked shattered, eyes barely able to stay open with sagging shoulders and tension stringing every muscle in his body together.

The rest of the team settled down around them: Bruce and Steve took up residence on Pepper's side of the bed – it was unfortunate that she was currently in DC – Natasha sat on the end of the bed ready to fling herself at anyone that came into the room and Clint sat beside her nearest the large glass windows currently dimmed.

When Tony falls asleep and wakes up again still in the grasp of his nightmare, tears freely running down his cheeks they realise just how vulnerable and lost he is in the wide, wide world. Sure, he knows everything and every secret organisation and their dirty little secrets. But he's still young.

He's still not found _his_ place. He's still wandering, still searching for a certain sense of solace.

They've been offering it to him, ever since the first night when they ate Shawarma together, the night when Bruce took food from Tony's plate and the billionaire didn't notice or he didn't mind. But he'd been pushing them away because he's _scared_.

He had trusted Obadiah Stane once and nearly died because of it.

Rhodey had partially betrayed him for the Air Force.

And it seemed that Pepper was the only person in his life who had been a solid, stationary pillar of support, comfort and consolation. They couldn't brush off the number times they'd seen _her_ holding _him_ as he murmured incomprehensible words and she cried, burying her face in his hair.

They look at him now, curled against Thor's chest, and for all his snark and sarcasm and biting bitterness that he so often throws on like foundation they can't help but realise he's nothing more than a de-clawed kitten.

Defenceless, weak, vulnerable.

But not in terrible, awful way – he just needs someone to back him up, to urge and coax him in the right direction and to reassure him that he's not alone. It comes as a revelation to realise he _loves_ physical affection, clutching Thor like he's a teddy-bear. Thor, in return runs a hand up and down his back, easing his violent tremors.

When the demigod has placed him down on the covers he's barely awake, gazing at them through heavy and exhausted eyes. Natasha takes residence in Thor's spot, performing an act that is generally Pepper's job: she watched them one film-evening and noticed that he was a sucker for people playing with his hair.

His body relaxed as she gently raked soft fingertips through his thick, soft hair, running her palm over his warm forehead. She's here to stay.

And that means until the day she dies.

She and Tony get on like a brother and sister now and it pains her so to see him so vulnerable and at-risk. She knows he has nightmares – she hears Pepper's accounts of them all and therefore Natasha goes in to check up on him, making sure he's alright in the morning.

He's fallen asleep, eased into a slumber by the knowledge that he's not alone, that he's surrounded by people who care for him. And, as they drop off one-by-one themselves until it's just her and Steve battling it out for the last vigilante, they exchange a knowing look.

They are Avengers.

They are a _team_.

When they fight, they fight together for one aim.

And _no_ Avenger should have to battle their demons by themselves no matter how big or small.

* * *

**Kermit:**

**I'm back: and I'm still sticking with Arc –Angel, it's just I'm back at school and piled down with **_**tonnes **_**of homework! I will try and spew out another chapter as soon as I can, but please accept this as a small ... apology. **

**AND DID ANYONE SEE TOM, MARTIN, HUGH, GEORGE AND JEREMY AT THE BAFTA'S?**

**THIS LITTLE FROG DID BABY. **

**Kermit – **_**out**_**. **


End file.
